


Growth

by themantlingdark



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-13 20:25:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16899312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themantlingdark/pseuds/themantlingdark
Summary: Thor looks back on first love while Loki looks out from within it. Age difference fic.





	Growth

In the early spring Thor asked Loki where he wanted to go for their annual summer camping trip. He mentioned Yellowstone and Boundary Waters as options. He also asked Loki about college acceptance letters and what he had decided and whether he wanted to use some of their time to hunt for an apartment and explore the campus. Loki replied somewhat vaguely, saying he wouldn’t be needing an apartment and that he’d do the planning for their camping trip once Thor knew the dates he’d be able available for vacation.

It wasn’t until it happened that Thor realized he’d been expecting it. The circumstances were set in his mind with what proved to be a level of accuracy that would probably alarm anyone else. Late June. Full sun. The air was wet with steam from evaporating rain and the green scent of plants was so thick it almost shut the throat. Dark clouds to the southeast promised another shower. It was an immaculate capsule of time. Thor got home from work and found his brother asleep on the bright orange upholstery of the boxy outdoor sofa that monopolized the front porch. Loki’s hair had curled up from the humidity just as Thor’s own had gone wavy within five minutes of leaving his air conditioned office. One large suitcase, one carry-on bag, and one well-loved leather satchel were heaped at the doorstep.

“Are you shipping the rest?” Thor asked, and Loki’s eyes fluttered open, then narrowed briefly before he remembered where he was.

“Yeah,” he croaked, then cleared his throat before continuing. “Well, Mom is. I’m going to keep a list of what I actually know I’ll need before I bother her about it.”

Thor hummed and nodded once. Loki was still stretched out on his back with his arms behind his head. His belly was peeking out where his shirt had been pulled up by the pose and the scattered hairs that disappeared into his jeans had darkened where they were stuck to him with the sweat of sleep.

“Hungry?”

“Starving,” Loki groaned, and swung his feet to the floor. “And thirsty. And I couldn’t hold it any more and had to pee behind the bushes about an hour after the cab dropped me off.”

Loki’s eyes were nearly even with Thor’s when the two met up to hug hello. Loki had a wiry strength and solidity about him now. When he wrapped his arms around Thor’s back and pulled him close, Thor’s weight didn’t anchor them as it always had before. Instead, their centers of gravity seemed to have crept toward solar plexus, pulling both of the brothers forward and into each other.

Thor unlocked the front door and pushed it open, then bent to gather up Loki’s luggage. Loki darted around him and into the house, wheeled his arms as he toed off his shoes, and then made straight for the kitchen. Thor listened to the soft damp padding of the soles of bare feet on the pale polished concrete floor and saw the dappled shadows of sweat on the back of Loki’s T-shirt. One patch between the shoulderblades and another at the base of his spine.

“Glasses are in the cupboard on the right,” Thor called, but Loki simply turned on the water, leaned down into the sink, and opened his mouth to drink from the faucet.

Thor made a vaguely Cajun chicken and rice dish for dinner. While he was cooking it, Loki ate a mountain of Greek yogurt with fresh pineapple that should have spoiled his appetite, but instead only whetted it.

“God, you’re not done growing, are you?” Thor laughed later as Loki helped himself to seconds, surgically spooning the chicken onto his plate and leaving as much rice behind in the bowl as he could manage. “I wish I could still eat like that.”

Loki grinned around a mouthful and loaded his fork with more.

“I think I want to wash the airplane out of my hair,” Loki said after supper, stretching up onto his tiptoes, taking jerky steps on fully extended legs, and arching backward as he filled his lungs to the brim. His belly was visibly full. It stuck out past his ribs when he straightened and came to rest on his heels again.

“Pick a room before you get in the shower and I’ll put fresh sheets on the bed.”

Loki chose the one next door to Thor’s on the back wall of the house. Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out onto the ocean. A big bed with white linens stood against the solid inner wall. Low chairs and a table were past its foot. There was another enormous window to the right looking out onto two years’ worth of gardening and landscaping done by Thor’s very green thumbs. Loki shucked off his clothes and sent them to the floor with a fluttering flap while Thor stripped the bed. When Thor went out to the linen closet, he found the bathroom across the hall was still dark and he wondered where his brother had wandered off to until he heard the muffled hiss of running water coming from the master bath.

Thor was setting Loki’s bags by the closet when the woody ring of drawers gliding open drifted in from his own bedroom. When he looked he found Loki rifling through his dresser.

“Do you need clothes washed?” Thor asked, sitting down on the foot of the bed to watch Loki’s fussy ransacking of his wardrobe. The small of Loki’s back was dotted with the water droplets that he’d missed with the towel. Now they were slowly stuttering down his backside, sometimes winding down his legs and sometimes falling to the floor.

“Ummm…” Loki hummed, holding a pair of boxers up to his hips as his hair dripped into the now jumbled sea of formerly tidy underpants. “No. I packed a bunch of boxer briefs, but they’re too warm for the weather here.”

“Yeah, the climate’s an adjustment. I’ve got a bunch of scrubs left over from residency in the closet if you want. They’re nice and cool.”

Loki dropped the boxers back in the drawer and shoved it halfway shut with the side of his thigh before making for the closet and resuming his search.

“Are you going to go to bed now, or try to stay up and get used to Hawaiian time?”

“Stay up,” Loki decided, with a defeated sigh.

Thor took his brother on a leisurely tour of the house and the yard. Loki approved of the ample lot and the way Thor’s landscaping managed to make the house, which was walled primarily with glass, feel private. He noted it would only be more so when the trees Thor had planted grew tall. Loki also approved of the scrubs that Thor had provided, which reminded him of beloved childhood clothing that had been laundered to near-transparency: blessedly soft and cool. They billowed gently in the breeze and let a heavenly breath of air slip through the weave to tickle his skin.

After Thor helped him unpack, they settled on the sofa in the position Loki had devised when he was three and Thor was seventeen: Thor sat at the far right with Loki stretched out all the way across the couch and his head pillowed on Thor’s lap. That way Thor could give him a head-scratching with his right hand and hold a book or a drink in his left. Loki mainly listened to the rain and the television, occasionally craning his neck to look at the screen if Thor made a noise or asked if Loki wanted a dish from a cooking show for dinner some time.

“Are you sleeping?” Thor asked later, with a playful scold in his voice.

“Just resting my eyes.”

“Mmmhmm.”

“They’re all fried from the flight,” Loki defended, whining half-heartedly. He tipped his head to the right so Thor could reach more of the left half of his scalp. “Should I get a car?”

“Ummm,” Thor’s voice was high and soft, debating. It buzzed through his body and Loki heard it through the air with one ear and through Thor’s thigh with the other, muffled and low. “Am I correct in assuming you’re starting at UHM this fall?” Thor asked.

“Yes,” Loki answered quietly, after a stunned pause.

“Do you plan to live here and commute, or stay on campus?”

“Commute,” Loki said, rolling over onto his left side so that he was talking into Thor’s belly. When Thor didn’t immediately recommence the head-scratching, Loki knocked his temple against his brother’s leg to remind him. Thor’s fingers resumed their churning through Loki’s hair. The drag of his palm shifted Loki’s head enough that his nose drew little circles on Thor’s stomach.

“Then you’ll need a car,” Thor answered, and Loki nodded.

Thor gave a few long rakes across the length of Loki’s scalp and then softly curled his fingers against the nape of Loki’s neck, over and over.

“Has it been bad at home?” Thor asked.

“It’s been...” Loki began, then took a slow breath while he tallied it up, “the same for nearly ten years now. He only has eyes for her.”

“I’m sorry,” Thor said softly, and cupped the base of Loki’s skull. “I hated leaving you there, but I was running all around the East Coast for rotations and then keeping odd hours through residency. And you had to finish school.”

“I know,” Loki whispered. His voice had gone high and pinched. His breaths kept hitching in his chest, catching on all the frustrations amassed in a decade. He had to rein his mind toward his body and force it to focus on Thor’s fingers in his hair. “Was he like that with you?”

“Yes and no,” Thor answered. “He was fun when I was little, just like he was with you… it wasn’t until I got to high school that he changed. Grades, sports, anything that looked good on a college application. That was all he cared about.”

“Why did he just drop me completely?” Loki whispered. “He never cared what classes I took. Didn’t ask for report cards. Never tried to push me toward law like he did with you. Is it because he doesn’t think of me as hi-”

“If that’s what it is then he doesn’t deserve another second of your time.”

Thor said it so quickly Loki went tense until his mind caught up with the words and then he sagged back into his brother’s body.

“You’re all Mom talks about on the phone,” Thor soothed and Loki stuffed his face further into Thor’s waist. The gurgling trickle of the gut made Thor’s belly flutter against Loki’s cheek and Loki’s mind got lost eavesdropping on the inner workings of his brother’s body.

“She tries really hard to make up for him,” Loki noted, once he’d resurfaced. “And she comes pretty close.”

“She does,” Thor agreed.

“Does he ever call you?”

“Not exactly,” Thor murmured. “Mom puts him on the phone when she’s talking to me on my birthday… and then she apologizes for it afterward. He still closes every conversation with, ‘It’s not too late to specialize.’ Still thinks my going into family medicine was as big a waste as my not going into law.”

Thor’s sigh flowed smoothly down over Loki’s face. No shudder in it. None of their father’s teeth left in him.  

“He can’t say his boy is a brain surgeon and it’s just killing him,” Loki huffed.

“Yep. It’s a lot of bronchitis, conjunctivitis, and UTIs. Sometimes Mikey with a marble up his nose. Nothing glamorous to brag about there.”

“Just a bunch of sick people made well,” Loki said, and Thor nodded. “Is he still afraid of flying and prone to seasickness?” Loki asked, looking up at the sweet little paunch that lived quietly beneath Thor’s chin.

“As a matter of fact he is,” Thor said, almost singing.

“You moved to the state that’s as far as can be from Manhattan and can’t be reached by land,” Loki realized, and then started laughing so hard tears streamed out his eyes. “You’re as subtle as a brick.”

Loki felt Thor’s belly flex with laughter against the side of his face.

“When I heard that Hawaii had a primary care shortage I squealed a little,” Thor admitted, and Loki grinned and pressed a kiss through Thor’s shirt.

“Bed,” Thor said, after another hour had passed.

Loki hummed, then mumbled something about how Thor had stopped scratching him again.

“Bed,” Thor repeated, and tickled the hollow between Loki’s hip and his navel to make him wake up a bit more. “Before you get too tired to move. Do you have a toothbrush?”

“No.”

“And do you wear pajamas these days?” Thor asked.

“No. You?”

“Not as pajamas. I wear the bottoms around the house as pants sometimes when I’m sick of slacks.”

“Mmm,” Loki nodded. “Slacks are a terrible thing.”

Loki still didn’t get up, however, so Thor’s hand continued the head-scratching while his mind pored over the contents of Loki’s luggage.

Mainly books, with hundreds of colorful post-it notes peeking out from between their pages.

Perhaps a week’s worth of clothes. Thor supposed there wasn’t much sense in Loki packing his whole wardrobe though: he was still growing at a weed’s pace and none of it would fit him in three month’s time. His shoulders had flared out quite a bit since Thor had seen them last, but Loki was moving gracefully enough that it seemed likely his bones were largely finished now. He just had to fill in his scarecrow frame.

The largest items in Loki’s suitcases were the tent they took on camping trips and the lantern and air mattress that went in it.

Loki had requested their first trip when he was thirteen. Insisted on seeing to the details himself, apart from borrowing Thor’s credit card and needing Thor to do all the driving. He’d picked a tiny, lightweight tent that could easily be carried to remote campsites and a queen mattress that fit neatly within it, leaving just enough room at one end for clothes and food. All perfectly practical--and, to Thor, perfectly obvious. It was what Thor had always dreamt of doing with the boy he’d been in love with at that age.

When they were finally out in the middle of nowhere in Maine and zipped up together in their tent, Loki had flexed his muscles for all they were worth whenever he changed his clothes--and carefully kept his back to Thor. Thor had been done growing for seven years by then. Comfortably a man. Loki was only beginning to grow. Faced so fully with the contrast, Loki couldn’t ignore how close his own body still was to boyhood. In the mornings on those first few camping trips, Thor took to getting up early to give his brother privacy. At night he flopped down on the air mattress and curled toward the wall of the tent to let Loki change in peace behind him. Loki had never returned those favors, but then Thor never expected him to.

Every night, the air mattress had wobbled and squeaked as Loki inched toward Thor. The first time it happened, Thor had to rush to calculate the concessions he could afford to make. Lifting his arm so Loki could tuck himself under it and set his head on Thor’s shoulder was deemed safe. Turning his head to kiss Loki’s forehead was within his means, but required calculations of its own: Thor had to press his lips there long enough that it wouldn’t seem reluctant or dismissive, but loosely enough that it would still read as sleepy and affectionate.

As if in answer to Thor’s silent, panicked prayers, Loki never pushed for more. He merely got more confident as the years went on and his limbs stretched to catch up with the length of his brother’s. He began showing off his new body. Leaving the tent without his top on as he joined Thor for breakfast. Stripping down to his skin to swim with his brother in cool streams. Stretching out naked on the mattress on warm nights with his arms folded behind his head and his long legs crossed at the ankle. A slim shape on the dark green sheets, his skin glowing gold beneath the incandescent bulb from their lantern. Thor had wanted to bite his brother on those nights, very softly on the belly, the hip, and the thigh, but he’d refrained for fear of what could follow.

Loki had never pushed for less either. He spent every night tucked silently into Thor’s side, sometimes with his arm around Thor’s waist or his leg thrown over Thor’s thighs. Loki’s fingers and toes wouldn’t stop wiggling until Thor had set his lips to Loki’s skin. And then Loki went straight to sleep, content with a kiss on his forehead, while Thor remained awake for another hour or two and listened as one by one the crickets that had hidden beneath the edges of the tent began to sing and the owls began to call. Thor would dwell on the soft brush of his brother’s breath as it puffed down across his breast. He’d set his nose in Loki’s curls to catch the scent of his hair. He’d let his eyes go wet at how much he had missed it all and how much he would soon miss it again.

Thor remembered the first time he had fallen in love. With a pale, slim boy with glossy coffee colored hair that always fell back down in front of his eyes precisely seventeen seconds after he’d pushed it off his face--Thor had counted. Quiet and patient and a very close friend. He’d been with his girlfriend since seventh grade. Nevertheless, Thor held out an absurd hope that Nick knew of Thor’s attraction and was going to break up with Anna and ask him out.

In hindsight Thor suspected Nick did know of the attraction and was just heroically sweet about it. Never did dump his girlfriend--was now married to her. Still, Thor was pleased that his stupid young self fell in love with someone so wholly lovely. Someone who still hadn't fallen out of love. So few people got to do that. Love was most often unrequited, or it faded, or else ended badly.

And when first love ended it took the last breath of childhood with it. Shut the door on something perfect--or opened it onto something broken. Lit the darkest corner of your world and dispelled the last of its magic. Taught you to doubt the things of which you were most certain. Discard what meant the most to you. That your best was not enough. Was not welcome. Was, perhaps, not even noticed.

Thor was twenty-five when he realized he no longer locked eyes with attractive strangers and imagined that anything could come of it. He couldn’t remember the last time he popped into shop that was out of his way just to see the handsome face behind the cash register. He was friendly with strangers in a way that caused people to ask if he was from Illinois, but he no longer flirted with them. He had expected his remaining days to pass predictably--almost identically--much as they had for past two years.

Thor worried he was too late now. Worried Loki had already let go. Lost the first battle. The one that mattered. If you fell once, you could never be undefeated again afterward. And the following fights felt less worthwhile. There wasn’t as much left to lose.

Hope could only hold out for so long before it twisted into bitterness. Not even a cactus could last more than two years without rain. It seemed unlikely that a handful of camping trips and a dozen frantic holidays scattered across half a dozen years were anywhere near enough to sustain it. Loki, by nature a late riser, had always set early alarms for mornings when his brother was in town. Thor didn’t feel worthy of a boy’s lost sleep.

When Thor looked down at his brother’s sleeping body he saw a young man now. The boy was gone. Thor had missed that much at least. He couldn’t allow himself an ounce of self-pity over it. He’d left Loki behind by choice. They’d missed out on most of each other’s lives so far. At some point the gulf would grow too wide to bridge. They wouldn’t have sufficient hours left to them to set it right; they would always have spent more time apart than together.

“Bedtime, Monkey,” Thor breathed, with all his fingers buried in his brother’s hair.

“Mmmhmm,” Loki agreed, unmoving apart from the hum of air behind his lips, still one to talk in his sleep.

“I have to work in the morning.”

“Mmmhmm.”

Thor carefully fished his phone out from where it had fallen behind a cushion and turned the volume down slightly, then put a throw pillow on the back of the couch behind his head and went to sleep.

He woke to the jostling of Loki sitting up, disoriented, beside him.

“W’time’sit?” Loki slurred, between the loud, slightly petulant breaths that always issued from him right after he’d left a deep sleep.

“Four-thirty in the morning,” Thor said, after a glance at his phone. “Ten-thirty in the morning in New York.”

He squeezed Loki’s knee sympathetically and heaved himself up off the couch to get ready for bed. Behind him he heard the springs and cushions shifting and then the soft scuff of feet on the floor as Loki shuffled along in his wake.

In the bathroom Thor scrounged up a spare toothbrush and the brothers stood side by side at the sink while their scrubbing sent foamy white rings spreading out across their lips and dribbling down onto their chins. In the mirror Thor could see that there was only one bath towel hanging from the hook on the back of the door behind him: Loki had used Thor’s towel earlier that night rather than grabbing a fresh one from where they were stacked in plain sight on a shelf beside the shower.

Loki sat at the foot of the bed and stared as Thor undressed. His face was blank and tired and Thor felt a cold hollow open up inside his chest upon seeing it.

“When do you have to be at work?” Loki asked.

“Seven-thirty. Have to leave by seven. Usually get up around six.”

Loki winced at all of those answers, peeled off the scrubs he had borrowed, then collapsed onto the mattress and did a dry sort of backstroke up the bed. Thor switched off the lamp and dropped down beside him.

“The lows at night are still up in the seventies. Do you want the air on?”

“I’ll try it au naturel tonight and see how it goes,” Loki yawned, and then rolled toward Thor, who lifted his arm to let Loki slot into his side.

Thor heard the short intake of breath that told him Loki had sniffed his armpit as went to set his head on his shoulder.

“Do I reek?” Thor asked, and Loki snorted and convulsed against him for a second.

“You never stink, you lucky fuck. You just smell… a little louder at the end of the day. It’s complete bullshit.”

“Excellent,” Thor sighed, and Loki pinched his stomach. The pinch made Thor hum a laugh into his own closed mouth, which made his lips buzz and tickle where they were pressed to Loki’s forehead.

They were in the same position when Thor’s alarm went off, and Loki dragged himself out of bed behind his brother. While Thor did pushups and pistol squats he could hear his sibling in the kitchen, spooning yogurt into a bowl and then opening canisters that meant he was covering his breakfast with dried cherries and granola.

“You don’t wear scrubs to work?” Loki asked, cocking an eyebrow as Thor came out in trousers and a button up.

“No. I have a few whites coats to keep my sleeves clean and I keep a couple changes of clothes in my office in case a baby pees on me or something like that. But those days are the exception. This looks a bit more put together, I think.”

Loki nodded, staring at Thor’s waist.

“Go through the cupboards and text me a grocery list while I’m gone,” Thor said, grabbing an apple from the fridge before heading for the door. “I’ll pick up what you want on my way home.”

When Thor checked his phone at four o’clock there were more complaints than requests.

Thor.

What. The. Fuck.

Where is everything?

Your fridge is full and yet there is nothing to eat.

I’ve checked the fridge and the freezer for real food four times now.

JFC it’s all tofu and vegetables and oat milk and fruit and fucking quinoa Thor. QUINOA??? What the fuck.

The cupboards are full of dry beans, brown rice, and MORE FUCKING QUINOA.

There’s millet in here Thor are you shitting me with this? That’s for birds, you dickweed.

You have oats but you have no means (maple syrup) of making them taste like food. Why?

There’s no chocolate. You’ve gone beyond good habits now. TOO FAR. Saints eat more sinfully than this. Have you given up on life?

The cocoa powder doesn’t count, so don’t even try.

Oh you fucking asshole.

There isn’t even sugar.

There’s only fucking agave.

I hate you so much rn.

Thank fuck I found a bag of almonds.

You’re out of almonds.

I finished off the pineapple and yogurt, so you need more of those now - GREEK yogurt. I’m never going back to the watery American shit.

The strawberries are gone now, so get more of those.

Finished your cherries and granola. More.

Why is there no bread, Thor? Is this some sort of joke? And why is there no butter? How am I supposed to live?

Found some almond butter at least. Had to eat it with a spoon tho because you’re a fucking troglodyte.

You’re out of almond butter now, obvs. Re-up.

I just saw chia seeds. CHIA. As in Chia Pet. This is the last straw. You can’t be my brother any more. I’m changing the locks and telling Mom you’ve become a woodchuck.

Thor got home just after five and swayed through the door with four canvas sacks of groceries swinging from each arm. When he darted into his room to change he was surprised to find Loki in bed amid all the brightness. The sun came in through the glass wall that faced west, down from the sky and up where it was mirrored by the ocean. The ocean light glanced off the white ceiling and fell down onto Loki. The light from the sky reflected off the yellow sheets and filled the shadows cast by the knobs of Loki’s spine, dotting his back with amber. He was in the low spot Thor’s body had made in the center of the mattress.

“Are you sleeping, or just lying in bed?” Thor asked, softly enough that it wouldn’t wake his brother if the former was the case.   

“Lying in bed.”

“Hungry?”

Loki hummed and rolled over onto his back to stretch his belly and take in a full breath after being curled on his side for an hour. The sun caught in every hair from his head to his feet and Thor could see each strand glinting, making Loki seem like a backlit photograph with little holes poked through it.

“Not yet,” Loki decided. “Did you get real food?”

“By your standards,” Thor sighed.

When they went out to put away the groceries Thor stood aside with a glass of water and watched as something akin to Christmas unfolded. Loki went through each bag, beaming, humming, and moaning. He found, among other things, bread, bagels, cream cheese, butter, childish breakfast cereals, chips, dips, brown sugar, maple syrup, and a stack of chocolate bars six inches high. At the sight of the chocolate Loki informed Thor that all was forgiven and he still loved him and they could be siblings again.

In the backyard Thor saw the tent pitched under a tree, its grey walls seeming to breathe in the light wind coming off the water.

“How was it in there with this heat?” Thor asked, nodding his head in the tent’s direction as he caught Loki’s eye.

“Still pretty warm even in the shade,” Loki admitted, around the mouthful of bagel he’d just bitten off. “I was in it in just my underwear at noon and I was sweating balls.”

Thor considered pointing out that it was, technically, his underwear and that it was still the only thing Loki was wearing, but opted instead to stay on topic.

“Well, we don’t use it by day.”

“No,” Loki agreed, “but you’re like a furry blond furnace and it’s small enough that in this climate you might actually be able to heat the whole thing up to ninety-eight point six degrees, so...”

“Shit.”

“Yeah... It was great on the coast of Maine, but...”

“Right. Fuck. Well...” Thor ventured, “Maybe if we leave the windows and door open.”

“Maybe,” Loki said, but his mouth was thin and his forehead, which had a few sweat-damp curls clinging to it, looked doubtful.

“Swim?” Thor asked. “To cool off before dinner?”

Loki’s eyes went wide at Thor’s tiny blue Speedo.

“You wear that in public?” Loki asked, pointedly raising one eyebrow from his perch at the foot of Thor’s bed.

“I wear it in my backyard,” Thor shrugged. “I don’t like the way trunks drag through the water. Did you bring a bathing suit?”

“Fuck me in the eye,” Loki muttered, and then sighed and closed his eyes on his regret. “No.”

Thor shot a black Speedo at his brother like it was a rubber band.

When they stepped out the back door Loki saw someone else out in the water, floating on what looked like a giant donut with sprinkles and chocolate glaze.

“Oh good,” Thor said, then took Loki by the elbow and turned to him, grinning. “You get to meet my girlfriend.”

Loki’s face went wide, then white. His lips parted slightly and his eyebrows made a loose sideways S across his forehead. His nostrils flared and trembled.

“Girlfriend?” Loki breathed, incredulous.

“Come on,” Thor continued, giving Loki’s arm a little tug as he led him down to the beach.

When Thor peered out of the corner of his eye he could see Loki staring at the figure in the water. At this distance, she was a small, slim, wasp-waisted woman wearing a yellow retro one piece bathing suit, a huge white sunhat, and massive black sunglasses. All around her the water was a luminous blue. Not another soul to be seen. Thor imagined it must have seemed to Loki that the Pacific was mocking him: empty everywhere but here, where it was, instead, full of what he least wanted.

Jane waved when they stepped into the ocean and then turned and started rowing closer to them with nothing for oars but her tiny hands. She was towing another small raft that appeared to weigh more than she did.

“Doctor boyfriend,” she said, leaning down to greet Thor with a kiss when they met up in five feet of water.

“Doctor girlfriend,” Thor smiled. “How’s the day been?”

“Lazy,” she sighed happily, taking off her sunglasses and hooking them on the front of her suit. “And therefore perfect. Who’s this?”

“This is my brother Loki. Loki, Doctor Jane Foster.”

They shook hands and Loki saw deep smile lines and crinkling eyes. Big freckles. Silver hair mingling with gold at the temples. The beginnings of milky purple creeping in at the edges of caramel irises. Thor had always liked older women.

Thor saw despair reach its zenith on his brother’s features before Loki spotted Jane’s left hand. Well worn wedding rings were swinging loose on a thin finger, locked in place by mild osteoarthritis at the joint.

Thor clung desperately to the innocent mask he’d put on up at the house. Loki’s face flushed and widened as he realized he’d been had. And then he stared straight at Thor with a smile that was pinched flat between his teeth and eyes that were wide and ticked up at the corners.

Thor felt a bit guilty for tricking his brother, but he wanted a test. If Loki looked so wounded at the possibility of Thor having a girlfriend--and so delighted by the fact that he did not--then first love was most likely alive and well, still beating its fool heart and thinking its fool thoughts somewhere in Loki’s stubborn head. Thor wanted to set off fireworks.

“Good timing, guys,” Jane said, pulling the other raft up along side her and opening the cooler that was resting on it. “Beer’s still cold.”

She handed them each a can of Bikini Blonde lager and Loki rushed to open his so that he could hold it up in front of his mouth and tip his head back to hide his grin. Jane noticed his haste and smiled.

“Doesn’t your brother buy you beer, honey?”

“He doesn’t even buy food,” Loki said, after a loud gulp and a sated sigh. “It’s all quinoa and vegetables.”

“Thor,” Jane scolded. “That’s disgusting.”

When they went their separate ways for dinner, Loki was loose limbed and rosy cheeked. His fingers brushed against his brother’s as they made their way up the hill and sometimes he swayed and knocked their shoulders together.

“How’d you meet your girlfriend?” Loki asked.

“She and Darcy came over to welcome me to the neighborhood when I moved in.”

“What’s Darcy like?”

“Even filthier than Jane. She’s like Mae West meets Matthew McConaughey.”

“Über-chill lady-mo retirees,” Loki mused. “Excellent. Will Darcy give me beer too?”

“God, I don’t even want to think about what she’ll give you,” Thor groaned, and Loki growled a yes and clenched his fist triumphantly.

While Thor was trying to fix dinner Loki got under his feet so thoroughly that, after the third collision, Thor laughed, picked his brother up by the armpits, and set him to sit on the countertop. Loki grinned for ten minutes after that. And, just as the smile started to soften on his face, Thor picked him and set his feet back on the floor again, starting the cycle over.

After dinner they threw a towel across the couch and sank down into it, still wearing slightly damp Speedos. It was too hot to sit within four feet of anyone, but Loki had nearly taken Thor’s lap as he sat down nonetheless. He settled with their thighs completely flush and soon they were sweating where their legs met.

The sun was getting low and beginning to shine straight into the house, making it warmer. Loki had to brighten the screen of his laptop in order to see anything. He found Chris & Don: A Love Story on Vimeo and started playing that. Thor filed it away as the most blatant thing his brother had ever deliberately done. Thor wanted to pout a bit as well: he wasn’t nearly as old as Christopher Isherwood.

Instead, Thor moaned as if in pain and sagged against his brother, letting his head fall onto Loki’s bare shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” Loki asked, and availed himself of the opportunity to bury his nose in his brother’s sun-bleached, sea-salted blond hair.

“I’ve already seen this,” Thor sighed. “Pull my fingernails out with pliers by all means, but please don’t make me listen to successful old white men talking about successful old white men.”

Loki snorted and set his laptop aside.

“Speaking of old white men, aren’t you afraid you’ll be bored here with me?” Thor asked. “I’m like drying paint these days.”

“Is that how you think of yourself?” Loki laughed.

“You saw what was in my fridge.”

“You’re just too well behaved,” Loki diagnosed. “What do you do for fun around here anyway?”

“Um,” Thor said, and his face went blank and smooth, then furrowed. “I don’t know… Text you, mostly. I do a lot of gardening--too much, probably. Exercise. Some snorkeling… Paddle boarding… Get drunk with Jane and Darcy and go swimming or stargazing or play poker--they’re unrepentant cheats, by the way… I don’t know,” he trailed off, shaking his head.

“Movies?”

“Sometimes.”

“Read?” Loki tried.

“News. Science, mostly.”

“No novels?”

“No, they’ve lost something,” Thor murmured. “Or maybe I have. I can’t live in them the way I used to. I see what’s happening behind the curtain now and it sucks all the wonder out. I’m always standing outside, dissecting them. Like I’ll be expected to write an essay at the end. I still read poetry though. Do you still plan to write it?”

Loki nodded a bit shyly and Thor smiled.

“Good,” Thor said, nudging him. “There’s a poet shortage.”

When they were done digesting, Loki demanded a ride on the paddle board. He stretched out on it with his arms folded behind his head and his legs dangling over the sides into the water. The sunset came sideways through his eyes and made them glow the same color as the ocean; Thor’s eyes glowed the blue that was behind them in the sky. Throughout the ride Loki’s gaze floated up and flowed down, but never left his brother’s body. The strong elastic fibers and the slimming black color of the Speedo minimized the effect, but there was no mistaking the enviable erection trapped in Loki’s borrowed bathing suit.

Thor stood between Loki’s bony knees, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he dipped the oar in an easy rhythm of lefts and rights and wishing that none of his neighbors could see so he’d be free to fall to his knees and give his brother everything he wanted while they hovered between the sky and sea.

When the sun had set they went inside to wash the salt from their skin. Loki let himself into the bathroom while Thor was shaving and stayed when he began showering. After brushing and flossing his teeth, gargling, shaving his sparse mustache, and combing his hair, Loki noticed that although the water had been running for several minutes there was no steam on the mirror or even on the inside of the glass shower walls.

“Are you taking a cold shower?” Loki asked, hearing his voice echo off all the white tile, making it carry over the hiss of water.

“I guess it is pretty cool. It feels better than coming out of a hot shower into balmy air and then getting into a warm bed.”

“I’ll have to try it.”

Thor heard the thunk of the shower door opening behind him and realized Loki intended to try it right that second. He rinsed the suds from his face and turned to see Loki standing behind him with his shoulders squared and his chin up. He had his chest puffed out and his belly flexed inward slightly. Tiny beads of water glittered in his hair and eyelashes, having bounced there after hitting Thor’s body. Thor could see the droplets scattering through the air, making Loki’s eyelids flutter as he tried to fight the instinct to blink them away. It shattered the proud facade Loki had constructed, conjuring images of butterfly wings and flirtation.

“I just don’t want to hold you back,” Thor said gently. “I’m afraid that five or ten years down the road you’ll realize you missed out on the things you really needed because you were spending time with your boring old man of a brother.”

“Did you find anything you needed while you were out there without me?” Loki asked. His nostrils were wide and his jaw was hard. His voice was sharper than Thor had ever heard it. Thor remembered again that the boy had gone and a man grown in his place.

“No,” Thor replied, with a shake of his head, then stepped aside to let Loki stand under the spray.

Loki nodded and hid his face under the water for a moment before he went about his washing.

They pulled on tees and boxers and walked out into the salted air and chorus of insects that had swelled in the sun’s absence. They rushed through the zippered screen door of the tent, hoping not to let any bugs in. Once Thor had it shut behind them they stood still, listening for the demonic hum of mosquito wings. Hearing nothing, they settled onto the mattress with rumples and rubbery squeaks. Loki clicked on the lantern and set about arranging pillows and blankets. Every movement they made changed the air pressure in the mattress and sent limbs and bodies rising or falling. Sometimes a knee or a backside sank all the way through and came to rest on the ground. Thor saw a line appear between Loki’s eyebrows as he grew irritated with the balancing act so he stretched out on his back to provide some stability while Loki wobbled beside him, trying to lean up on an elbow as the mattress made rude noises beneath him.

“We have to turn the light off, Lo,” Thor whispered, and Loki’s face curved into amusement, thinking Thor was joking about an early bedtime or pretending to be prudish. His face fell when Thor’s lips folded inward in apology. “If someone walks by on the beach or looks out their window they might see silhouettes,” Thor explained gently. “We have to be quiet, too. The wind could carry our voices and the neighbors probably have their windows open.”

The lantern cast warm yellow-orange light, but Loki was unmistakably green. Thor stretched out his arm and Loki sank into his side, breathing tightly and trying to keep his features taut, wincing at every sound the mattress made.

“At worst I thought we’d wake up feeling too warm and have to cool off in the water,” Loki choked, and Thor tugged him in close and kissed his forehead, then rocked him gently and pushed his still wet curls off his face. The bed croaked again and Loki cursed.

“Come on,” Thor murmured, and shook his arm lightly behind Loki’s neck, urging him up.

Thor grabbed the lantern and they climbed out of the tent, then dragged it six feet to the right so that grass beneath it wouldn’t die.

Inside, Loki curled up on his side on the sofa with his back to the coffee table and his eyes closed. Thor went through the house drawing blinds and turning off lights. The little camping lantern cast swirling shadows as it swung at the end of his arm. He sat on the back of the couch above Loki’s head, staring down at the smooth face that wasn’t slack enough to be asleep.

Thor remembered the intensity of disappointment at that age. The way youth affected the proportions of events. A day of heartbreak loomed larger when you had fewer years at your back. For Loki, it was one out of less than seven thousand. For Thor, a bad day was one out of over eleven thousand and was rarely novel or unexpected. High young hopes fell harder than the low ones that Thor had learned to set. Loki might have had this night in mind since he was thirteen. A third of his life.

“I remember when I was twelve,” Thor said, “I was talking with Sif about how the best thing would be to get an air mattress, a single setting of dishes and flatware, a cast iron skillet, clothes hangers, bedding, towels, and a minimal wardrobe. That way you could move anywhere at the drop of a hat, even in a small car. You’d have everything you needed. It didn’t occur to either of us that we were sitting comfortably on a couch as we had that conversation. With our feet up on an ottoman. Or that we were wrapped in cashmere blankets. Or that we were eating spritz cookies that Mom had made with a cookie press and a stand mixer and cookie sheets. Or that we were about to use a TV and VCR to watch Apollo 13.”

A breezy little laugh left Loki’s nose. He rolled onto his back and heaved himself up onto his feet. The borrowed boxers and T-shirt hung loose on his thin frame, making him seem small.

“I always forget you grew up with VHS,” Loki sighed, then stretched and took the lantern from Thor’s fingers.

Thor followed the light as it bounced down the hall and into his bedroom, where it came to rest on the nightstand. Loki crawled to the middle of the mattress and stretched out on his back to watch his brother.

“Nice tent,” Loki smirked, eyeing the shape in Thor's boxers.

“It’s revenge,” Thor said, settling in bed beside him. “I got an eyeful of yours the whole time we were out on the paddle board.”

“You were pornographic. That bathing suit left nothing to the imagination. Even poor Doctor Foster probably knows you’re uncircumcised. And it’s not like I can just tell my dick to calm down.”

“Well no one forced you to lie there staring,” Thor noted, and lightly knocked Loki’s elbow with his own. “You could have sat cross-legged facing the front of the board like literally everyone else in the world would have done.”

“Just because everyone else in the world is an idiot doesn’t mean I’m obliged to be.”

Thor snorted and squeezed Loki’s hand.

“I wanted to bite you,” Thor confessed. “Though, to be fair, I almost always want to bite you.”

“Only ‘almost’?” Loki asked, turning his head to look at Thor’s face.

“Well I can’t be sure about when I’m sleeping,” Thor smiled, then sat up and swung a leg over Loki’s body so to kneel astride Loki’s thighs.

“Right here,” Thor said, and rucked up Loki’s T-shirt, then bent down and caught the soft flesh below the navel between his teeth. He waited until the white ring left by the bite had gone pink before continuing. “And here.” He pulled the waistband of Loki’s boxers down an inch over the left hip and then bit the crest of the bone, dragging his teeth over it as he pulled away. He sat back on his heels. “And here.” He nudged Loki’s left leg open and lowered his head to grab a mouthful of Loki’s soft inner thigh, rolling it between his teeth. From the corner of his eye, Thor saw fabric shifting as Loki’s cock bobbed beneath it. “There,” Thor sighed, and threw himself back down at Loki’s right side again. “Now the urge to bite you is down at a respectable five from the standard thirty-seven on a scale of ten.”

Loki rolled toward him and shoved his chest lightly. Thor threw his leg over Loki’s hip to keep himself from tipping over, then tugged Loki closer, dragging him in with the back of his calf and his hand between Loki’s shoulder blades. He put his left arm under Loki’s neck and felt the pulse in his brother’s throat beating against the inside of his biceps. He wondered if Loki’s neck could feel his heart too, beating hard against it.

Loki was dragging his fingers lightly against Thor’s chest in a motion reminiscent of digging, rhythmically curling and straightening them, starting with the pinkies and moving into the index fingers. His thumbs were anchored, lying flat against Thor’s sternum.

“I’ve always thought our bodies should open there,” Thor said softly, looking down at his brother’s hands. “For things like this.”

“Sometimes in your texts you say just the right thing at just the right time,” Loki murmured, nodding, “like you know what I’m thinking or what I need to hear, and I feel it there… low in my chest and high in my belly… and almost out in front of it, where my hands are now.”

“And it feels like there’s a name for it that’s on the tip of your tongue” Thor said, and threaded his fingers through Loki’s hair, letting the curls steer his fingers. “And that you felt it before when you were young. And it went with something specific, but you can never remember what...”

Loki’s fingers tightened in Thor’s shirt. He was nodding faintly and looking at Thor with wide eyes.

“Thor, you’re backlit,” Loki whispered. “I can’t see you.”

“Sorry,” Thor said, then carefully slipped his fingers free of Loki’s curls, rolled onto his back, and patted his chest until Loki was stretched out on top of him.

Loki propped his head and shoulders up on thin arms while his eyes darted all over his brother’s face. It made Thor think of the way bees hover before a cluster of blossoms, seeming to weigh the merit of each flower before finally dipping in to drink. When Loki lowered his face he did it slowly, as if he might spook Thor with sudden movement. Thor felt the warmth that radiated from Loki’s skin against the side of his face before the tip of Loki’s nose pressed into him and Loki’s lips puckered softly against his cheek.

They always kissed hello on the mouth when Thor came home for Christmas. But these were a different line of kisses. Not the crisp pecks on the lips meant for reassurance after absence in the cold face of winter. These were the melted mingling of want that intended to make more of itself, self-sowing so that it might never run short of satisfaction. The summer variety, seeded five years ago, dormant until enough sun and rain had come.

Thor turned his head to return his brother’s kiss while he slid his hands over Loki’s back, dragging the T-shirt up and then reaching down again to stroke bare flanks and to fit his fingers into the troughs between the ribs.

They slid the sides of their faces against each other, carefully inching toward the center. Thor could hear the breath panting from Loki’s parted lips. He could feel the short, swift billowing of the chest that was held in his hands. When the corners of their mouths touched, Loki’s legs clamped tight around Thor’s thighs and his hips sank. Thor hummed and caught Loki’s lower lip in his mouth, then sucked it gently and stroked it with his tongue. He heard a breathy, involuntary whine as Loki’s hips rolled into his.

Loki stretched his jaw wide and sealed his lips against his brother’s. He tightened his fingers where they gripped Thor’s shoulders. Thor slid his palms down Loki’s back and ran them softly over the curves of his ass. He felt the dry heat of thin cotton shifting with his palms and heard his brother cry out again. Loki bucked when Thor’s hands worked their way under the waistband of his boxers and gripped him, spreading and kneading his cheeks, guiding his hips.

Loki’s kisses grew distracted. Sometimes they came as little flurries concentrated on a small patch of cheekbone. Sometimes they were open and wet and messy against Thor’s mouth. Sometimes he just gripped one of Thor’s lips in his teeth and moaned while he ground their cocks together.

Thor threaded the fingers of his left hand into Loki’s hair and gripped him by the curls, angling Loki’s head to the left as he tipped his own to the right. He sucked on Loki’s tongue while he slotted a finger into the cleft of his ass. Loki whined and worked his hips harder while Thor rubbed and teased his opening.

At a firm thrust and a loud cry, Thor felt the little hole twitching under his fingertip. Loki's eyes were open and trained on Thor’s, but they were going in and out of focus as the rest of his nerves distracted them. Then they closed and his head slowly sagged until it was hanging over Thor’s shoulder.

Thor stroked his brother’s narrow back and listened to his breathing as it calmed and deepened. After a quarter of an hour passed he pressed a long kiss to the bend of Loki’s neck.

“Gotta get up, Monkey,” Thor whispered, and Loki hummed. “Come on,” Thor coaxed. “Or you’ll be glued to your boxers soon.”

Loki nodded groggily, then gingerly climbed off his brother and shuffled into bathroom.

Thor threw his clothes in the hamper and went to the kitchen to drink a glass of water, then refilled it and brought it back for his brother.

“Here,” Thor said, offering the cup when Loki came back to bed.

Loki sat, gulping, letting the cold water dribble over his chin and drip down onto his now-bare chest. Thor made a silent bet with himself that the T-shirt and boxers were in a heap on the floor in front of the sink and that there was a damp washcloth lying on the counter. When Loki was done he set the glass on the nightstand and Thor imagined the ring it would leave on the wood. He wondered if one day there would be thousands of them. Like the growth rings on a tree stump, marking increase and attainment.

“Sorry the tent didn’t work out,” Thor said, squeezing Loki’s shoulder as Loki burrowed into his side.

“We would have been a sticky mess all night,” Loki noted, wrinkling his nose and shaking his head. “And we’d be rushing out to pee in the bushes with the mosquitoes.”

“Yep,” Thor agreed.

“This is better.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> please don't comment or repost.


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